


The Legend of Zelda: The Twin Demons

by Guestyperson



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guestyperson/pseuds/Guestyperson
Summary: Long after the events of Ocarina of Time, but before the events of The Wind Waker, a civil war is raging amongst the Gerudo and at it's heart lie twin kings each fighting for the soul of their country, a young queen of a neighboring land desperate to hold her kingdom together, a captain in the Queensguard who will protect his sister at all costs, and a former regent with a secret, sacred duty. The goddesses have designs for all of them.This is but one of the legends of which the people speak...
Kudos: 1





	The Legend of Zelda: The Twin Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a great flood story! What can I say, I was inspired by the announcement of Age of Calamity to write my own fun little Zelda story where we all know where it's going and every lovable character dies horribly. (Or do they?)
> 
> A few notes on the subject of canon:
> 
> 1\. How long after OOT this is set is deliberately unclear, but for the purposes of this story I've based the ever changing geography of Hyrule on the specific version found in OOT.
> 
> 2\. This might be the most controversial break from canon. The Rito exist in this story at the same time as the Zora. I know the Encyclopaedia states the Rito evolved from the Zora after the great flood, but it also said it only took a couple of hundred years and in my opinion that is ridiculous. As the proverb goes: "I recognise that the Council has made a decision. But given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it" In this story the Rito evolved some time between OOT and this story and they mostly exist because I think bird people are fun. I have no better excuse.
> 
> 3\. I am aware that the Ganondorf in Wind Waker is supposed to be the same guy from Ocarina of Time, not a reincarnation. I am also aware that in this timeline it's stated "The hero did not appear". The presence of some characters called Ganondorf and Link in this story might lead you to believe I don't know that. I do and am accounting for it. I'll just have to ask that you trust my eventual explanation in the story will be a satisfying one.

> _This is but one of the legends of which the people speak..._
> 
> _Long ago, there existed a kingdom where a golden power lay hidden. It was a prosperous land blessed with green forests, tall mountains, and peace._
> 
> _But one day, a man of great evil found the golden power and took it for himself. With its strength at his command, he spread darkness across the kingdom. But then, when all hope had died, and the hour of doom seemed at hand..._
> 
> _...a young boy clothed in green appeared as if from nowhere. Wielding the blade of evil's bane, he sealed the dark one away and gave the land light._
> 
> _This boy, who travelled through time to save the land, was known as the Hero of Time. The boy's tale was passed down through generations until it became legend... But then, a day came when a fell wind began to blow across the kingdom. The great evil that all thought had been forever sealed away by the hero once again crept forth from the depths of the earth, eager to resume its dark designs…_

* * *

Aveil screamed. It had been going on for seven hours now and the witches were growing impatient. Koume raised the clay bowl to Aveil’s lips and poured the green liquid down her throat, wincing at the smell. Kotake paused in her chanting to glance at the Gerudo woman, runes of blood painted on her distended belly, and at their centre the image of a triangle, split into four parts by a second inverted triangle painted inside it.

“This had better work,” Koume muttered. Raising her arms above her head, the ruby gem embedded in her forehead bursting into flame and a ball of red energy forming in front of her.

“Oh great Ganon, calamity of ages, feel the sorrow of your people who languish in the wastes!” A flame burst forth from a pedestal north of the altar upon which Aveil writhed. Kotake raised her hands and an icy mist burst from the lapis embedded in her forehead and a blue ball of energy formed in front of her.

“Oh great Ganon, malice incarnate, feel the destruction visited upon your people, wrought by the winds!” Aveil suddenly shrieked as another flame at her feet burst forth from another pedestal. The witches began to speak in unison.

“Oh great Ganon, demise of the light, feel the despair of this woman, princess of the Gerudo, Aveil the Tenth. Accept her sacrifice and be reborn from her womb!” The witches launched their energies at the altar as the third flame burst into being. Aveil’s wide frightened eyes saw the approaching lights and she let out a final scream before all the fires in the room of rites were suddenly extinguished. Koume and Kotake fumbled about in the darkness for a second before the torches embedded in the walls burst back into flame.

“Did it work?” Koume asked.

“Pass me the knife,” Kotake replied. Grabbing the knife from her sister, Kotake floated over to the unmoving body of Aveil and with surgical precision sliced open her belly. Koume, ever squeamish hovered at the back of the room.

“Does the babe live?”

“Sister…” Kotake said hesitantly. “You had better come look at this…” As if on cue a baby’s cry started echoing off the walls of the room. Koume swallowed as if to prevent herself from vomiting and floated over to the woman. As she was halfway across the room another cry joined the first.

“Twins?!” she said incredulously. “But… how?!”

“More importantly, which one is our king, and which one can be… disposed of?” Kotake wondered aloud, her knife still raised. Koume placed a finger in the centre of one baby’s forehead and then the other before returning to the first.

“Power sleeps here,” she said definitively. “Kill the other.” Kotake raised her knife when suddenly there was a flash of light and a cloud of smoke and the witches found themselves surrounded by 30 Gerudo warriors and the occasional masked figure, all bearing the emblem of an eye atop a large tear.

“Sheikah! To arms!” came an authoritative call.

“Gerudo! Attack! Do not let them escape!” came an answering call. The witches swore.

“Sister, I think a retreat is in order.” Koume said nervously. A kunai struck the ground beside the altar and the witches leapt into the air, Kotake dropping her knife and grabbing the baby Koume had indicated. Holding it tightly enough that it started to cry, she raised her hand and lobbed fire back at the Sheikah. The two witches spun in mid air and disappeared. The heads of the Sheikah and Gerudo forces approached cautiously and stared down at the baby.

“We’re too late!” swore the Sheikah chieftain, her red eyes flashing behind her mask.

“Grab the baby and let’s go,” the Gerudo replied. “We’ve got to warn His Majesty.”

* * *

It was the nineteenth year of the Gerudo civil war. Since the murder of Aveil the Tenth the Gerudo had split into two factions, one, the Gerudo of the Wastes, made their home in the Spirit Temple, at the site of the Desert Colossus. The other (much smaller) faction, The Gerudo of the Winds, lived in Gerudo Valley and survived essentially solely through their alliance to the throne of Hyrule. The Haunted Wasteland, which had long been a perilous place to attempt to traverse was now made completely hostile. Between the stalchildren, leevers, and raiding parties of the Gerudo of the Wastes, anything west of the Gerudo fortress had been given up for lost. East of the desert, however, Hyrule flourished like never before. Many called it a golden age. The age of the Hero of Time, and the darkness of the Seven Year War, as the history books had come to call it, had faded somewhat. It was still remembered of course, but the pain was blunted by successive generations until all that was left were ancient nationalistic grudges and racial distrust. Still, the memory that the demon king Ganondorf Dragmire had come from among the ranks of the Gerudo had never quite faded from memory.

“Your Majesty,” Mutou, the mayor of North Castle Town, said nervously. “I mean no disrespect when I ask this…”

“And yet,” Queen Zelda interrupted, tamping down on the urge to roll her eyes, “I feel like you only ever begin a sentence that way when you are liable to cause offense.”

“Your Majesty,” Mutou stammered. “I would never-“

“Can we get to the point?” Queen Zelda asked. Mutou flushed a distinctly unflattering colour.

“Well then,” he started, and drawing himself up to his full height, attempted to look imposing. It did not work. “I speak for my constituents in the Castle Town Merchant’s Guild when we want an explanation as to why so much of _our_ tax dollars are still going towards propping up the obviously failed Gerudo state.”

“And I speak for _my_ constituents,” Queen Zelda replied haughtily, “That being, as I am sure you know, the entire nation of Hyrule, when I say that our alliance with Ganondorf of the Winds…”

“That child,” Mutou grumbled.

“That _King_.” Zelda shot back slowly and coldly. A nervous silence fell over the room as Zelda’s eyes narrowed with barely suppressed fury. “Our alliance, and the support we give to the King in the East keeps locked in the desert wastes the kind of forces that would seek to bring about a darkness the likes of which we have not seen since Dragmire himself ruled in this castle!”

“Your Majesty!” Mutou began.

“Enough!” Zelda interrupted. “You forget yourself, Mutou. I am, as always, grateful for your influence with the merchants, and your guidance on economic matters. You are, in these areas, a most trusted and valued advisor.”

“You are too kind, Your Majesty-“

“HOWEVER,” Zelda continued, cutting him short. “Matters of foreign policy are the domain of the crown. It is the most sacred of duties I am trusted with and I will not be questioned on them in such an impertinent manner.” The mayor flushed.

“My most sincere apologies, Your Majesty, I will take my leave.” Mutou rose to his feet, gave a quick, but very low bow, and hurriedly left the room. The rest of the council looked expectantly to Zelda’s throne at the head of the long table.

“That… unpleasantness out of the way,” Zelda continued, composing herself. “I would hear the rest of your reports. Rutona, what news of the domain?” A lady Zora rose delicately to her feet and bowed her head.

“Your Majesty,” she said warmly. “If it pleases you, our scouts along the river through Gerudo Valley have encountered no military issues since our last report, save the occasional Octorock. Fishing remains at the usual levels and the scholars at the lakeside laboratory report no change in the purity of the lakewaters.”

“That pleases me indeed,” Zelda replied. “And your wife? How fares Lanaya? You two were expecting last I heard?”

“Oh, you do me a great honour to remember such a thing!” Rutona said, blushing. “I’m delighted to let you know we have three new hatchlings. Two boys and a girl.”

“Oh that is good news!” Zelda enthused. “My utmost congratulations to you and your family, and that of the crown as well. Your parents must be very proud.” Rutona smiled and demurred as she sat back down. “And what of the mountain, Damaruk?” A goron, the largest person seated at the council table, got to his feet.”

“I’m happy to report that the tektite infestation we reported at last month’s council appears to have settled somewhat and mining operations have returned to their usual output…”

* * *

Several hours later, Zelda sat back in the mostly empty council chamber and sighed. Impa, her attendant and chief of staff approached the throne.

“That Mutou,” Zelda said irritably. “I am convinced he still thinks of me as a princess to be coddled and paraded before the masses, rather than his sovereign.” Zelda impetuously stamped her foot on the marble. “Who does he think he is dismissing our ally as ‘ _that child’_ like that? Everyone could tell what he meant.” Impa made an expectant noise and Zelda continued. “Am I merely a child and not his queen?” she said. “I am, after all, only two years older than the Ganondorfs.”

“I thought you handled him quite excellently, your majesty.”

“No! None of that!” Zelda replied. “None of this ‘your majesty’ claptrap from you of all people. I’ll tolerate it at council; one needs to keep up appearances, but I’m not going to put up with him disrespecting me in public and you… _respecting_ me in private.” Zelda gave an exaggerated shudder. “It’s unseemly.”

“As you wish, your highness,” Impa replied with a smirk.

“Honestly. One would think you weren’t the queen regent for fifteen years with all this nonsense,” Zelda replied grumpily.

“You know what the gossipmongers say, Zelda,” Impa replied seriously. “About how you’re too young for the throne, that these past three years you have been too under my sway…”

“Oh, let them gossip,” Zelda replied, getting to her feet and strolling to the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

“If anyone saw how casual we are with each other…”

“Only a fool would believe you were some kind of evil vizier from the fairy tales, plotting to take my throne.” Zelda laughed. “And if they do believe it, so what? By all accounts, you were quite a popular queen.”

“Queen _Regent_ ,” Impa corrected automatically. The two stared at each other for a few seconds before Impa cracked first, a smirk breaking across her face and then the two burst out laughing.

“His _face_ though,” Zelda guffawed. “I speak for my constituents,” she quoted in a silly voice, her cheeks puffed out. The two paused and looked down into the courtyard where a group of soldiers were training.

“Oh! Li-“ Zelda began before correcting herself. “I mean, Master Link!” Zelda exclaimed delightedly. The blonde young man below glanced up and waved wordlessly. He gave a short hand signal to the other guards, who took up sparring with each other, and ran up the stairs at the North end of the courtyard. As he reached the two ladies, he moved to drop to one knee.

“Oh stop,” Impa said, catching his arm with a laugh. “I’ve just been over that with her myself. I think if one more person she actually likes decides to obey protocol she may just throw them over this balcony.”

“She’s not wrong,” Zelda interjected. “I knew you were coming back, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon! Did you arrive this afternoon?” Link nodded enthusiastically and Impa smiled.

“Taciturn as ever, I see,” Impa said. Link frowned.

“I…” he began slowly.

“Just don’t like talking, I know,” Impa replied, ruffling his hair. “I’m just teasing.” Link scowled playfully before Impa wrapped him in a big hug. “I must say it is good to have the two of you back at the same time for once. It seems like whenever you’re home Zelda’s away on some state visit, and whenever she’s back you’re stationed in some god awful desert encampment! Having both my fosters home at once is a rare treat!” Impa turned and began walking back into the castle. “Now, I don’t care what homecoming shenanigans you’ve got planned with your friends at the tavern tonight,” she called back over her shoulder. “You’re having dinner with us first, and you’re actually going to tell us what it’s like out there so your poor sister can stop letting her imagination run wild. She tends to fret, and it distracts from her queenly duties.”

“Impa!” Zelda said, mock outraged. “I do _not_!” Zelda ran after her leaving Link on the terrace. It was times like this, with his family, that he wondered what his birth parents would have thought. His father had been captain of the Kingsguard on that ill fated day when the first battalion had been ambushed by the forces of the Gerudo of the Wastes. Both the king and the battalion had died, and his mother hadn’t held on much longer, having succumbed to the flu epidemic at the time. Link had grown up in the castle, with a regent for a mother and a queen for a sister. He had decided at a very early age he wanted to lead the Queensguard, and despite his sister’s misgivings about him being in harm’s way he had risen through the ranks at astounding speed as soon as he was of age. He wasn’t there yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“Captain Link!” a voice called. Link turned to face a young Rito of maybe 13.

“Hello Nall,” Link signed with a grin. “Miss me?”

“No more than usual,” the boy replied cheekily.

“And have you been practicing?” Link continued, his hands quickly moving through the well-practiced shapes. “You’ll never be a soldier if you’re lazy.”

“Just like you taught me!” the boy replied, his voice cracking in his excitement. He blushed at the noise before drawing a wooden short sword hanging at his waist. Link grinned and walked over to the edge of the overhang to the castle courtyard where a great tree was growing and snapped off a stick. He walked back to Nall and tucked the stick under his arm in order to continue signing.

"Remind me of the basics of your stance." Link instructed.

"Feet shoulder-width apart," Nall said dutifully. "One foot slightly in front of the other."

"And?" Link prompted.

"And..." Nall said, unsure, "Body on a slight angle so you present a smaller target than flat on!" he said excitedly, shifting.

"And what about your knees?" Link asked, looking pointedly at the Rito's legs.

"Oh!" Nall exclaimed, unlocking his knees, "Bent slightly, so you can move and shift your weight."

"Exactly!" Link signed, grinning. "Now what about your strikes?"

"Um... Broadsword or rapier?" he asked.

"Rapier," Link replied. "I told you the broadsword is only when you're older." Nall's face fell.

"I am older!" he exclaimed. "It's been a whole _month_ ," Link laughed.

"Land a hit on me with that thing, and I'll consider it."

* * *

> _  
> Hey Goodboy,_
> 
> _I looked into that matter you asked me to. You were right on the money about the stones, but speaking of money what you propose is way beyond our capabilities. The lady in pink might be able to afford it if you ask nicely, but rumour has it her purse strings aren't as loose as she'd like these days. I told my source that it's her purse and she should be able to loosen it as much or little as she wants, and was summarily told it's "complicated" before being dismissed. I've been looking for other sources for the stones than the obvious, but have hit a ~~miner~~ minor snag, if you catch my drift. I'll keep trying that angle, and let you know if anything turns up_
> 
> _Yours (always)_
> 
> _S_

> _Smiley,_
> 
> _That's excellent news about the stones. As always you have met my expectations and then some. Don't worry about the lady in pink. I'll handle that angle. If your 'minor' problem seems insurmountable, come back home. I have far more use for you at my side than on some godforsaken rock half a world away, but if you think it's worth more exploration I trust your judgement absolutely._
> 
> _Yours (for now, if you're nice),_
> 
> _G  
>  _

> _Goodboy,  
>  _
> 
> _Sadly, I am unable to be at your side (or elsewhere about your person for that matter) for a while. I have hit upon a breakthrough with an old friend. He's very earnest even if he does have rocks for brains. I've been reading about a certain drummer, and I suspect there might be something there we can use. I anxiously await word of what 'uses' you might put me to upon my return. One does like to be helpful._
> 
> _Yours (Not for long if you keep that up)_
> 
> _S_

> _Smiley,_
> 
> _As always, I dread to think what our go-betweens think of what they're reading. There's thinly veiled code, and then there's... whatever form of subtlety you call that last note. You're lucky I don't give a damn what people think and am too useful to got rid of. Whatever uses I have for you (Purely in a tactical sense, of course) I would not be so careless as to put them in writing. You'll just have to use your imagination. I saw your aunt yesterday. She sends her love. As for me... Well I'm sure you can anticipate._
> 
> _Yours (in a purely professional sense, of course)_
> 
> _G_

> _Goodboy,_
> 
> _Now who's unsubtle? I'm coming home. I've exhausted all my leads for now. I have news, and also there are other_ pressing _concerns. I hope to be of use upon my return._
> 
> _Yours (very soon)_
> 
> _S_

* * *

The Ganondorf of the Winds, also known as King Ganondorf Masav'voe was very seriously considering changing his name. He understood Otol and Ulira's counsel on the matter, that reclaiming the name of the demon king Dragmire was a powerful symbol that sent a message to his people that despite standing against the king in the wastes the Gerudo weren't trying to disown their past, or run from it, and he was not ignorant of the power of names. He even got that he needed a surname to distinguish him from _the other one_ but still it seemed a bit on the nose. Ignorant of how distracted her king was Otol walked into the throne room.

"Your highness," she said. "A missive from one of the Sheikah spies."

"I suppose I had better hear it then." he replied. Otol rose and walked over to Ganondorf, presenting him with a rolled up piece of paper. Ganondorf unrolled it and read quickly. Ganondorf smiled warmly. "Send word to Kakariko. We'll need to make a couple of staffing changes, and prepare one of the guest suites."

"At once, your highness," Otol replied, before bowing quickly and leaving. Ganondorf looked out from his window over the desert. Out there, somewhere, his brother was plotting his death. Out there, somewhere the nameless Desert Goddess' statue was being defiled by Moblins and Lizalfos. Out there, he knew in his bones, was the reason his left hand hurt so. He felt the hate rising within him and tamped it down, breathing heavily.

"I need some rest..." he said to himself, running a hand through his thick red hair. "Or a stiff drink." 


End file.
